


The Revelation

by TheLightFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Men Crying, Mild Language, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-02 00:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury/pseuds/TheLightFury
Summary: Harry just didn’t understand it. He’d known it his whole life. He’d lived through it. Why did it bother him now?Harry has a discovery about his time with the Dursley's, and Draco is on hand to offer some assistance.





	The Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazing hermione18802 for being my beta!!!!

Harry just didn’t understand it. He’d known it his whole life. He’d lived through it. Why did it bother him now? It was just a label.

Still, anxiety tore at Harry’s heart, like a steel claw wrapping its hands around the organ, desperate to squeeze the life out of it. He pushed his hair back from his face, making it stick up at even more odd angles, and attempted to focus on the sounds of the busy pub around. The faces of his friends swam slightly before him, and his stomach suddenly felt like it was a bottomless pit.

“… Dumbledore could have thought it was a good idea. McGonagall must have been outraged!” Hermione’s passionate voice penetrated the slight buzz in his ears. Ron, Draco, Ginny and Luna all came back into focus around the table.

“Who knows what would have happened without us rescuing you in second year, mate.” Ron added, taking a sip from his pint. 

“Abusive pricks.” He added. 

Harry’s chest clenched painfully again, and he reached for his beer. He was getting shakier by the second.

“Well, I mean it’s over now, right?” He offered, hoping the conversation would move on.

“I don’t know how you manage to be so calm about it, though! They really were truly awful!” Hermione continued, not to be dissuaded. 

Harry felt the weight of five pairs of eyes settle on him with a mix of pity and shock. He nodded mutely, sipping his beer as the urge to escape mounted. It would be too obvious if he just walked outside though, someone would follow him. No, for some privacy it would have to be the bathroom. Before he could move, however, Ginny spoke up, hand curling into a fist on the table.

“I’m still pissed you won’t tell me where they live!” She downed her fire whisky as if it was apple juice, her eyes burning as brightly as her hair. Harry tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

“Like I said, it’s over now, no point in bringing up old grudges.” He stubbornly avoided the eyes of Draco who was regarding him with an expression that Harry couldn’t quite place. 

“I need to use the loo.” He added quickly, walking away before anyone could say anything else.

In a private cubicle Harry felt his breathing hitch as his emotions crashed over him, words replaying in his head.

_ Emotionally and physically abused. _

That’s what the Dursley’s had done to him. They hadn’t just been mean. They hadn’t just treated him differently. They had actually gone out of their way to hurt and alienate him. Apparently, he was only just realising it now. And it fucking  _ hurt.  _

A lump formed in Harry’s throat as he remembered the anger of being the blame for everything, the sheer boredom of his life and the longing for a friend, or anyone really, to talk to without getting insulted. The numbness of watching Dudley open his presents, and the relief of eating dry bread after days of nothing, and the  _ sting _ of each slap, each hair pull, each assault, seemed all too real, even years after they’d last happened. Everything swirled inside him like a toxic emotional cocktail and threatened to make his knees give way.

After facing Voldemort, Harry didn’t really know why labelling his childhood as ‘emotionally and physically abusive’ really made that much difference. It wasn’t like he was going back; He was completely independent now. He didn’t ever need to see the Dursley’s again. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known that they were horrible. He’d actively despised them and known that it wasn’t normal for him to be treated like that. But still, he found himself gasping for breath, bracing himself against the toilet cubicle, tears threatening to stain his cheeks.

“Harry?” 

In his panic, Harry hadn’t noticed the sound of Draco entering the bathroom, but from the sounds of it, he was stood outside Harry’s stall.

Harry tried to pace and quieten his breathing. 

“Yeah?” He gulped out, wincing as his voice shook embarrassingly.

“Can I come in?” 

Harry looked up in surprise, as if suddenly expecting to be able to see through the cubicle door.

“Into here?” 

He heard Draco sigh, and could imagine him rolling his eyes.

“No, into your Godfather’s arse, of course into there!”

Harry paused, heart still hammering. A few seconds later, however, he was sliding the lock back. Harry shifted from foot to foot as Draco re-locked the cubicle behind him. As Draco’s gaze settled on him, he chewed viciously on a nail, breathing threatening to escalate again. The silence deafened him as his heartbeat thrummed unsteadily in his ears.

“I didn’t know your relatives were such arseholes.” Draco murmured. 

Harry flinched, eyes firmly fixed on the floor, and attempted to turn the action into a shrug. The silence was heavy around them again, urging him to comment, to say that he was fine, it didn’t matter. But it was a lie, and he couldn’t trust himself to talk.

He heard Draco step closer, and then suddenly there was a cool hand on his wrist, gently holding it with long slender fingers. Harry’s too warm skin sighed in relief, and his heart slowed in its erratic rhythm almost immediately.

“I know what it’s like to realise that people, or situations, aren’t what they seemed.” 

The quiet voice reached him again, full of a gentleness that only a few months ago Harry would never have thought possible. 

“It’s shit, but you’ll get through it. Especially with the Weasel around to badger you into being your annoying happy Gryffindor self again.” 

A ghost of a smile crossed Harry’s face. He took a breath.

“I just feel so stupid,” he whispered shakily, “I knew they mistreated me. I knew that it hurt. Why does the label make a difference?” 

He swallowed the grapefruit in his throat and hastily wiped his eyes as they betrayed him.

“Because it makes it more real. Because ‘abuse’ is a word we say it all the time so we’re desensitised and the gravity of the situation takes us off guard. Because it brings back memories. Because it’s a shock. Because you’re human, Harry, and you’re allowed emotions.” 

The hand squeezed gently on the final words, and Harry cleared his throat hastily, lest a sob escape. His heart was bursting and he found both of his hands balled into fists in an attempt to stop physically shaking. He couldn’t lose control in front of Draco. Not just yet.

“It will get better. Just give it time. You can always come and find me.” 

Once again, Harry felt a squeeze on his wrist before Draco quietly exited the bathroom, leaving Harry to crumple onto the floor, all control forgotten. His shoulders shook as he sobbed, actually sobbed for the first time in his life, reliving the pain of his time at Privet Drive. It killed, like a knife twisting in his chest, and he was paralysed, helpless to the onslaught of emotions that berated him without mercy.

As time went on, however, the clawing reduced, and it was like a cage had been unlocked, breaking him free of some of the emotional baggage that he didn’t know he even had. Slowly, the gulps for breath slowed, then stopped, and he regained the ability to breathe normally again. A few more minutes, and the knowledge that there was a circle of friends out there, willing to love and support him through whatever shit would come his way, was giving him strength to face the pub again. But more importantly, it was also giving him the strength to face the truth.

He had been emotionally and physically abused.

It did fucking hurt.

But he had survived it.

It had made him who he was.

He was happy.

Alive.

_ Loved _ .

As Harry looked around his friends, Draco’s eyes twinkled in understanding, and Harry let out a final shaky breath that gave way to a weak but real smile. He couldn’t ask for better friends in the world. They were his family, and they were willing to stand by his side in any situation, no matter what.

No matter what revelations life threw at him, Harry just knew;

He could cope with it. 

  
  



End file.
